


The Lounge

by nightmares06, PL1



Series: The AU Lounge [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bar, G/T, Gen, Original Character(s), Size Difference, The Borrowers - Freeform, Weechester, Weechesters, Whiskey - Freeform, g/t setting, g/t writing, giant tiny - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2018-10-28 20:12:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10838571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmares06/pseuds/nightmares06, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PL1/pseuds/PL1
Summary: Welcome to the AU lounge! A place of relaxation conceived and helped designed by all the readers and visitors to the world of Brothers Apart! Stay awhile, kick up your boots, and have some pie!





	1. Genesis

_In the beginning, he said “Let there be light!”_

_And with a flourish and a twirl, there was._

_It wasn’t the light of his Father, creator of the heaven and the earth, but instead a soft light, the kind that washes over a person and draws them in to welcome them. A light they could be comfortable in._

_He smiled, knowing all was good._

* * *

They weren’t the first ones there.

Dean paused at the threshold, caught off-guard by the unexpected change of scenery. Gone was the Impala and missing was the forest they’d driven from, leaving Bowman and the Wellwood far behind them.

The lighting reminded Dean of the diners and bars he and Sam visited quite often on the road. Indeed, against the wall was a bar full of top-shelf whiskey, the bartender running it a short man with a vaguely familiar face slowly wiping a glass dry with a bar rag.

The sturdy stools rose up from the ground, intricate filigree decorating the legs. The same patterns made up the sides of the bar, tapering away at the top. The dark wood had been treated with a fine finish, coolly reflecting the lights back.

Over in the corner of the room, past the slew of pool tables and worn booths, a kid was messing around on an old arcade machine, his blond hair tapering to a spike at the front.

“You got it, Sammy,” the kid enthused.

Dean’s heart skipped a beat.

As he stepped into the diner, the bartender perked up, tossing the clean glass in with the others with a casual motion. It was a miracle it didn’t break or even clatter. “C’mon in, boys!” he called out a welcome. “Drinks and food on the house.”

The plural form directed at Dean brought him up short. “Boys?”

It was then that he realized Sam was nestled in his regular spot, tucked against Dean’s neck and above his collarbone, securely perched. Dean was so accustomed to having Sam there that he hadn’t even noticed. Sam was out in plain view for all to see.

Yet the bartender didn’t look surprised, and Dean started to notice strange details in the bar that he’d missed on first glance.

Small, elevated stands on the surface of the bar, the tapered and filigree edges leading right to them like pathways. Instead of napkins or condiments, these places held miniature versions of the bar and stools, complete with tiny glasses and placemats.

Each table had smaller tables in the center, sometimes with walls guarding them from the outside and sometimes without. Each chair had the filigree pattern, and on closer inspection, Dean found it to be a grid made for small hands and feet to fit into.

Made for people like Sam to climb.

“What is this place?” Sam called out, his grip tight on Dean’s collar as he leaned out to see the bartender.

The man shrugged. “A place to rest for weary travelers, until your number is up.”

He pointed above his head. On a large, flat-screen television, words flashed across the screen. Instead of a sports game, three different names were listed, each with its own color.

**Family Ties**

**Chasing Family**

**The Road Not Taken**

“Don’t worry!” the man chirped. “You’d be back soon enough once your time finishes. This place will be hopping in a bit, so better save yourself a pool table.”

Dean frowned, but as the man turned back to his glasses, decided to do some of his own prowling around. Those kids by the arcade machines especially. There was an ache in his heart when he looked at the young teenager.

Couldn’t be more than fifteen. 

* * *

_And he said “Let there be water!”_

 

_This time, not only did a water tap appear, an entire bar slowly took shape before his eyes. On it, top shelf whisky winked in the lights, and the labels for_ Coke _and_ Pepsi _stood side-by-side in a long row of names._

_He smirked. Whoever said you can’t bend a few rules during creation?_

* * *

“Hey,” Dean said, coming up behind the kid.

Green eyes flashed at him, then went back to the screen. On it, Mario and Luigi were jumping around. “Hey,” the kid said, unconcerned.

Dean’s eye was drawn down to the part of the arcade machine the kid was leaning on, widening when he saw  _movement_.

“Hey!” yelled another kid, younger and with floppy brown hair, at his own arcade machine that couldn’t be taller than four inches.

“Dean are you–” Sam started.

“Yeah,” Dean murmured back.

It was  _them_.

From the look of things, the Sam and Dean Winchester standing in front of them couldn’t have been more than ten and fourteen years of age, right about the time Sam was cursed. But– they’d been  _separated_ at that age, and these two definitely hadn’t.

“You can play if you want,” the younger Dean said, jabbing an elbow at the machine next to him. “They’ve all got controls made for Sam’s size, if he wants to join in.”

“How do you–“

“Just do,” younger Dean shrugged. “You kinda… pick up things while you’re here. Oscar’s around, if you want to see him.” He stared down at the machine, missing a control and letting Sam get the best of him in their match. Something was hanging over the younger Dean’s head. “He’s been checking things out. He doesn’t really want to… leave.”

* * *

Leaving was indeed the last thing on Oscar’s mind as he hesitated under one of the nearby chairs. Confusion left room for little else. He had no idea how he’d come to be there, and he was way too shy to ask the man that stood behind the tall bar. He could climb up there with ease if he wanted, but he avoided that side of the room.

It would all be so much easier if there was a way into the walls of the place. Every time he tried to find a vent, it was like it was in the corner of his eye. Never in front of him.

Instead, he’d taken to wandering under one of the tables. Sam and Dean had tried to show him the games in those tall, heavy cases, excited voices crowing about  _unlimited quarters!_

Oscar had promised he’d give them a try. He needed to look around first, and clear his head.

Last he knew, he’d been left behind. But now he was back with his friends, in a place none of them really recognized. He  _didn’t_  want to leave, because it meant not being able to find them again.

Of course someone else would wander in while he was making the trek back to the human he knew. Oscar wrung his hands while he stood in the shadow of a chair, peering across the floor at the heavy, well-worn boots standing near the arcade machine.  _That_  was a tall human, one of the taller ones he’d ever seen.

There was no way Oscar could dart across the floor without the newcomer noticing him.

They were supposed to be safe in whatever this place was. The man at the bar had made sure Oscar knew at least that. He didn’t  _need_  to fear anyone that came in, and the promise was made with a confident wink.

Oscar, barely over two inches tall, hesitated anyway.

He shifted his bag around on his shoulder. There were snacks stuffed inside from one of the tables in the room, things he’d saved in case he didn’t feel like climbing back up later. Once he was sure he had the bag secured, he took a step out of the shadow of the chair.

And froze.

He found himself glancing up, up, up at the man’s face, eyes wide at the intensity there. He was so familiar, and at the same time not. Oscar glanced between him and the teenager whose back was turned to him.

"Oh,” he muttered. He thought he might understand. It was hard to wrap his head around it, but like young-Dean said.  _You kinda pick things up while you’re here._

His next steps were halting and unsure, but Oscar forced himself to walk further in the open anyway. He was just going to cross to the arcade machine. Yeah. Easy as pie, as humans liked to say. Then he could figure out what to do about the fact that there were two Deans.

And one was much older than his own. 

* * *

_“Let the seats of rest and the tables of support appear!”_

 

_Once more, he held out his arms, going for the grandiose. The lights in the slowly-forming bar flickered, and he glanced overhead to see if it was his Father, come to visit a former son._

_“C'mon, Dad! Who doesn't love a little flair with the story!”_

_No answer was forthcoming, so he turned back to his work._

* * *

“Dean,” Sam whispered, but he’d already spotted the person down on the ground.

After the last few years, Dean had spent enough time with people under four inches in height that he was able to spot the kid that stepped out of the shadows the moment he appeared. Tiny, small and scrawny, this kid made the younger Sam look  _big_. If he was over two inches in height, Dean would be surprised.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean said, kneeling down and folding his hands together to make himself less threatening. “My name’s Dean.”

“Oscar,” Sam supplied, and the younger Dean nodded, suspiciously eyeing Dean.

Dean had a feeling that his younger counterpart might just try and jump him if he made a move for Oscar, and wondered what their story was. The younger Sam had turned from his game as well to watch what was happening, his eyes wide when he saw Sam on Dean’s shoulder.

“Hey, Oz,” Dean said with a grin. “Good to meetcha!”

Oscar flinched, his mouth falling open. He tilted his head back to meet the older Dean’s eyes. Hearing the nickname that the Dean he knew had come up with, it was easier to believe that this was the same person but with a different life. Somehow. He decided not to try too hard to wrap his head around it.

With his head tilted back, Oscar almost lost his balance. He stumbled backwards, and then heat rose to his cheeks.

“Um,” he said quietly, gripping the strap of his bag. He’d put himself out in the open with nowhere to hide. Usually he would feel better if he had something to peek around for something like this.

It seemed like everyone else was looking at him. One, two, three,  _four_  sets of eyes, he counted, noticing the man on the taller-Dean’s shoulder at last. That must be another Sam. It had to be, if this was Dean.

“Ummm,” he said again, his brow pinching in confusion. He might have somehow figured out who these men were without any trouble, but knowing what to  _say_  was an entirely different beast.

He went with the simplest option, cheeks blushing fire all the while. “Hi … Dean.”

Dean’s grin softened, and Sam waved from his shoulder. “So, you three know each other?” Dean asked, glancing between the two young Winchesters and Oscar on the floor.

Younger Dean nodded sharply, kneeling on the ground to offer Oscar a hand. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, hell, I’ve got nothing but time, apparently,” Dean said, pushing himself to his feet and glancing around the place. “How ‘bout I grab us some drinks and some food, and we can catch up.”

The younger Sam perked up at that. “Does that mean Mac ‘n Cheese with fluff?” he asked excitedly.

Dean shook his head, bemused.  _Some things never change._  “I’ll see what they got, short stuff.”

Oscar appreciated having help off the floor, especially with the older Dean standing tall again. No matter how brave he wanted to be, that was a difficult sight to take in. Oscar barely stood higher than the rubber soles of those huge boots.

Once both Oscar and Sam were in hand, the three youngest occupants of the strange place could pick a table. After exploring the room on his own, Oscar enjoyed the view from his higher perch.

“Dean, you’re gonna get  _tall,_ ” he pointed out in a low voice.

“Tallest of them all,” the youngest Dean remarked with a smirk, nudging the kids both in the shoulders.

* * *

_With the tables and chairs set up in the diner half, the entertainment half took less time to design._

 

_“Let the games come forth!” he declared loudly, his celestial power rippling through the room. Not only pool tables appeared, but also an arcade section and several tables for playing poker, with specially-designed chips and cards._

_The arcade was just as carefully designed, though the pool tables would be pushing it. Instead, smaller versions of the pool tables appeared on the poker tables, giving the smaller counterparts a place to start a game or two._

_And with this he smiled, and knew it to be good._

* * *

The table they picked was closer to the pool tables than the bar, and the younger Dean gently let the kids down so they could check out the table and chairs made for  _their_  size.

Dean grinned at that, pressing his fingertips to the table to give Sam a path to the table. “So we have one order of Mac and fluff,” he said, counting off, “one salad for pint-size, two burgers with everything,” he winked at his younger self, “and what about you, Oz?”

Oscar jolted out of his curious examination of the tiny chairs to look up again. The adult Dean wasn’t as intimidating from up on the table, even if he was one of the tallest humans Oscar had ever seen. He recovered faster, clasping his hands behind his back.

Over the month he spent with Sam and Dean, he’d tried a lot of different foods. While he rifled through the memories, he watched the older Sam climb down Dean’s arm. Like it was the most natural thing in the world to climb a giant. 

Not that Oscar was one to talk about  _normal_. 

He realized he had paused, and blurted out the first thing on his mind. “I-I like peanut butter,” he said, his cheeks pink. “Peanut butter sandwiches, I mean.”

Dean smiled. A rare,  _real_  smile, not a smirk or a grin. “Sounds like a plan. Watch yourself, pint-size.”

With that last caution and a brief finger to mess up Sam’s hair, Dean walked over to the bar, leaving the kids with his younger brother.

The bartender gave Dean the same, smarmy grin from before. “What can I do you for?” was asked before Dean could recall where he might know the man from.

Dean leaned on the bar like he usually did, looking back at the table. “You got Mac and fluff?” he asked, expecting confusion.

He got none. “Only the best for our young patrons!” the bartender announced, pulling out a small bowl from under the bar as though by magic.

Normally Dean might react to something like that, but something in his mind told him everything was fine, they were all alright.

The bowl was pinched between two of the bartender’s fingers, a tiny metal bit sticking out from under the warming lid. Dean let the man put it on his palm, staring at wonder at eating implements made for Sam’s size. “Ah–“ he stumbled over his words, “a salad, two bacon cheeseburgers with everything, and a peanut and butter sandwich.”

Before Dean’s eyes, a meal fit for everyone there was assembled. 

* * *

_The last step was the most important._

_“Let the rules be set!”_

_Over the bar, he passed his hand, and a television set, ahead of its time and with throbbing letters on it appeared. It counted down the time to when the first visitors would appear, welcomed in._

_“Let no one enter who would do harm. Let no harm come to those who enter. Those who are welcomed are welcomed by all, despite their differences or similarities.”_

_He grinned, a smarmy smirk that put Dean’s to shame. “No memories of this place may pass the threshold, and no one will enter knowingly! Yet all will come, and a berth in the storm will be granted!”_

_Turning to the wall, he gestured grandly. “Let it known that we are now open for business!”_

_The words on the screen overhead switched to Hershey Kisses and Salt Lines, and there on the wall grew two straight lines, shooting upwards until they dove across the wall at each other, forming a door._

_The door opened._

__

[Artwork by lamthetwickster](lamthetwickster.tumblr.com)

* * *

Back at the table, Sam stepped closer to the young children, noting that Oscar was much thinner and frailer than his young self. “Everyone should pick a seat,” he said, gesturing to the round table made for them. “Dean’s going to have the food in a few minutes.”

They all followed his instructions, but Sam found a fingertip brushing at his hair. “So long!” said the younger Dean. “Why don’t ya cut it?”

Sam stepped away from the hand, though he didn’t feel any fear at the newer human. This was  _Dean_ , after all, though much younger and without the shadows that hung over the older Winchester.

“I like it,” Sam muttered, brushing his hair back into some semblance of order as he stepped over to the small table. Between two different Deans, he was never going to have a peaceful moment with his hair.

“I like it too!” young Sam announced as Sam sat down next to him, pushing at the napkins their size and picking up the placemats to peer under them.

Oscar swung his legs back and forth on his chair. His toes didn’t even reach the surface of the larger tabletop, but he was used to that. The thread spools he normally used as chairs were too tall for him as well.

“I don’t cut my hair very much either,” he commented, one hand brushing absently at his messy brown hair. It was reminiscent of a dandelion in some places, perpetually uneven and unkempt.

He caught himself staring at how tall the older Sam had ended up. By his reckoning, Sam had to be almost four inches tall. Both Winchesters were towering people, no matter the scale.

Shyness welled up in him and he looked away, instead finding the miniature utensils at each place set on the table. Hesitantly, as if wondering if it would be bad manners, he brushed his fingertips over the tines of his fork.

“Well I think it looks just fine the way it is,” Sam said gently, laying his satchel by the side of the chair and wondering at how odd it felt to sit at a table made for him, and one that have no indication it was made for dolls. The younger version of Dean wasn’t looking at them anymore, and gave no reaction to the statement, instead watching Dean get their food at the bar.

“Grub’s up,” Dean announced as he came back over.

* * *

_The kid waiting outside the door stepped in hesitantly, his green eyes darting from side to side. “Dad?” he called hesitantly. Two small figures, standing on his hand, looked around with him, one eager and one nervous._

 

_The man in the room, now standing behind the bar calmly cleaning a glass, smiled. “No dads here, I’m afraid,” he said, meaning it in more than one way. “But food’s on the house, and the quarters for the arcade are endless._

_"How ‘bout you come in… stay awhile and rest.”_

_And with that, the Lounge was in business._

* * *

Sam arched his eyebrows at what Dean was carrying. He could only see two drinks and the two burgers, nothing else. It wasn’t until Dean sat down, across from younger Dean, that Sam realized there was more cupped in his hand.

Dean held out his hand to Sam. Three different trays were cupped between the wrinkles in his skin, by some miracle all standing upright. Sam hurried to take them, realizing Dean had no way of placing stuff down while his hands were full.

Peeking under the first bowl, Sam announced “Mac and cheese and fluff,” vaguely surprised that the strange obsession from his childhood  _existed_  in a bar, nevermind that it was sized for them, tiny noodles perfectly made and all. “Peanut butter and jelly,” he placed Oscar’s sandwich in front of him, ruffling the mousy hair. “And a salad.” He grinned his thanks at Dean, staring at the tiny leaves and smaller tomatoes.

“Plus two burgers made right,” Dean said, with his hand freed finally able to hand off younger Dean’s food.

The teenager scowled at the soda. “What? You’re the only one that gets whiskey?”

Dean ticked a finger at him. “You got a few more years before that, champ,” he said dryly, picking up his whiskey on the rocks. “You’ll live.”

Sam grinned, picking up the beer Dean had gotten him. “Perfect.”

Oscar’s eyes brightened as he picked up his very own peanut butter and jelly sandwich, made with bread perfectly sized for him. He’d never minded when Dean had to squash it down, but he’d never  _imagined_  having bread like a human.

He mulled over his first bite while eyeing the drinks the others had. Whiskey and soda were definitely out for him, between the alcohol and the fizz.

He couldn’t help the fascinated glances at the other miniature food on the table. He’d never seen a tomato so small, but there were several in older-Sam’s salad. The pasta in young-Sam’s dish was probably too small for the two Deans to see.

“I wish I knew how ta make food that size,” he announced. “I could make my own sandwiches and-and whatever fluff is and everything.”

Younger Sam picked up his fork, the fluff hanging down from it, and laughed. “Maybe we can make some fluff sometime,” he said wistfully, wishing they could go back to Oscar’s motel in the real world and take him along. “I think that’s the same either size.”

He bit down onto it, and had to close his eyes at the unexpected explosion of flavors. It was over two months now since he’d been cursed, and it was  _delicious._  Sam had almost forgotten what it was like having food that was his size.

The two humans were mostly ignored by the kids and Sam, all three of the smaller folk used to having them around while they were eating. Dean leaned back when he finished the last bite of his burger with a sigh of contentment. It wasn’t often that burgers tastes so fresh with ingredients so crisp. He idly wondered what the apple pie would taste like, knowing that naturally this place would have pie.

“So,” Dean said, “you tell us your story, and we’ll tell you ours.”

Younger Dean smiled ruefully. “I think you already know it starts with Sam’s curse, right?” He waited for Dean to nod. “I was lucky enough to spot him when Dad came back–“

While they talked and caught up, the letters on the TV screen slowly switched, brightening around  **The Road Not Taken**  while the other names vanished into the nether. The bartender grinned, knowing soon a new group would join them.

His bar would be hopping in no time at all.


	2. Advent of the Deans

_Welcome to the AU lounge! A place of relaxation conceived and helped designed by all the readers and visitors to the world of Brothers Apart! Stay awhile, kick up your boots, and have some pie!_   
  


* * *

  
Jacob paused and blinked deliberately. A sudden shift of his surroundings caught him off guard enough that he stiffened, taking in a sharp breath. They weren’t in the Impala anymore, shortly after he’d agreed to travel with the Winchesters. The key to the car, like precious metal, was nowhere to be found, along with any of their other possessions.  
  
They were in … a bar? A diner?  
  
He frowned around the room, noticing the arcade machines lined up against one wall. There was a kid by one of them, a teen only a handful of years younger than Jacob. He was intent on the screen, not even noticing Jacob’s sudden appearance there.  
  
There were two others that he could see, both at the bar. One man stood behind it, and gave him a knowing smirk and a nod. Jacob was too bamboozled to return the greeting right away.  
  
His plan to walk over there and find out what was going on stopped abruptly when he took a closer look at the other guy, leaning against the bar with a glass in one hand.  
  
Tall, sporting a worn leather jacket and jeans, and with a spike of light-brown hair atop his head, the man was the spitting image of Dean, who was currently perched on Jacob’s shoulder, not quite four inches tall.  
  
He stared for another beat of hesitation, and then realized that the guy didn’t just look like Dean. He _was_ Dean. No curse on him, standing at full human size. Enjoying a drink at the bar while a tiny double of himself stood on someone’s shoulder several yards away.  
  
“Uh. Okay,” he muttered, glancing to his shoulders without turning his head. “What’s …” he trailed off, finally noticing the tiny furniture resting on top of all other other furniture in the room. Perfect miniatures of each table, with their own chairs and some place settings here and there. A glance at one of the unoccupied arcade machines revealed a tiny Winchester-sized console on the panel.  
  
“Yeah, so this is weird,” he finally managed a full sentence. “Guys, what do I do?”  
  
They were interrupted before either of the tiny brothers with him could respond. “C’mon in!” called the Dean that loitered at the bar. “They have _all you can eat pie._ ”  
  
That certainly made the Dean with Jacob perk right up. “Pie?”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t see Dean from where he sat. That tone of voice was easily recognizable. “Dude, you had an entire slice of pie to yourself a few weeks ago.”  
  
“But _pie._ ”  
  
The Dean waiting for them at the bar gestured at the seats. “Just watch your step. I’m not sure where Oscar got off to. The others are playing _Mario._ ”  
  
Others. Jacob glanced at the arcade console and realized that there must be other people Sam and Dean's-- _his_ Sam and Dean-- size over there. He couldn't see them past the teenager, but some notion popped into his head that they must be Sams.   
  
Plural Sams and Deans. Holy shit.  
  
Jacob took hesitant steps toward the bar. His eyes trailed on the ground, not knowing who Oscar was but certain he'd find out. In the meantime, he wouldn't put the little guy at risk.   
  
He arrived at the bar and took a seat. There was a beat of hesitation before he settled his arms on the bar so his passengers had a way down. Leaving them to their short climb, he nodded at the much taller Dean.  
  
"I'm Jacob Andris," he greeted, looking bemused. "How ... how's it going?"  
  
“Jacob?” Dean repeated, a grin blossoming on his face. He clapped the kid on the back, earning a _look_ from the Dean perched close by on a shoulder. “Bowman told us all about ya!”  
  
“Do you _mind?_ ” Dean snipped from where he was sitting. No matter how much Jacob tried, he couldn’t completely stop the impact from jostling Dean and Sam a bit.  
  
Dean poked at smaller-him in the side curiously. “Dude, since when am I _bitty?_ ”  
  
The much smaller Dean batted at the questing finger in aggravation. “Dude, quit it!”  
  
They stared at each other, and the regular-sized Dean burst into a grin. “ _Awesome._ ”  
  
Before Dean or Jacob could react, Dean had nabbed his smaller counterpart off the teenager’s shoulder, setting him down on the bar before he could get a swipe in with his tiny knife. “Bartender!” Dean called out, “we need a whiskey and apple pie over here, stat!”  
  
“Coming right up!”  
  
Sam stared at where his older brother was standing now, in just as much shock as Dean was down on the bar. “What in the world,” he said weakly, though he could feel the underlying current in the room that said they were _safe._ As boisterous and odd as this new Dean seemed, he wasn’t a danger.  
  
Just excitable.  
  
"Uh," Jacob said, once again at a loss for what to say next. He didn't have any clue who Bowman was. He had a strange feeling he might someday, but for now the name rang no bells. He decided to just let that one slide by.  
  
Instead, he eyed Dean-- the one he knew-- down on the bar. The little guy wasn't hurt at all, but he'd definitely never left Jacob's shoulder behind so fast. The taller Dean was swift, and clearly had enough experience handling someone smaller than himself. Little Dean didn't have a scratch on him.  
  
In fact, he'd been set down next to a miniature version of the bar they sat at. Jacob grinned at the sight, and reached down to nudge one of the stools.  
  
"Check it out, guys, you got front row seating," he mused, giving the stool a light twirl. "Sam, you wanna order anything?"  
  
“Maybe just a beer,” Sam said, his voice low.  
  
That didn’t stop the bartender from overhearing. “One beer, comin’ up!”  
  
Sam slowly climbed down Jacob’s arm, taking in the new, unfamiliar surroundings. The warm lighting overhead pushed away any shadows, and though Sam was shy as he saw the other Dean glance over at him, a telltale tingle going up his neck at the motion, he knew the man meant no harm.  
  
Not that the smaller Dean would ever believe them.  
  
The little Dean bristled when he saw Dean looking at his Sam. “Don’t even _think_ about grabbing Sam like that!” he commanded bossily, making his taller counterpart smirk in amusement.  
  
“Oh?” Dean drawled lazily, claiming the seat directly behind the tiny bar set up for them. “And I’m guessin’ _you’ll_ be the one stopping me, shortstop?” He winked at the new Sam in the room, letting him know it was all just a joke, and Sam nodded back, relaxing a little as he walked closer to the pair of Deans.  
  
“Yes, I will,” Dean snipped back, pointedly taking his stool at the miniature bar just in time for a tiny glass of whiskey, complete with ice and a nearly-microscopic napkin, appear in front of him, courtesy of the bartender. It was quickly followed by an equally small slice of apple pie and fork made for it, and a mug of beer, looking the size of a quart next to Sam. “I trained up _Jacob,_ didn’t I?”  
  
Jacob snickered quietly at that. He didn't even have an argument for it. 'Trained' had become a word that suited him pretty well, when it came to the tiny brothers that had perched on his shoulders mere moments ago. He'd learned to listen especially carefully to their quiet voices, always ready to accommodate them if they needed it.  
  
He received a beer of his own, along with a silent smirk from the bartender, and almost went off his train of thought for a moment. He couldn't place who the guy was like he had with Dean.  
  
"If this Dean is anything like you are, I don't know how much luck you'll have training him," he commented with a shrug. Jacob didn't have to grow up with the little guy to know how headstrong he could be.  
  
"Besides. He probably already knows how to fix a car, I just had to take the class to fix up the Impala."  
  
Dean arched his back pridefully. “I’ve rebuilt that car from the ground up before,” he bragged shamelessly, wiggling his fingers at his smaller self. “With my _bare hands._ ”  
  
Little Dean scoffed, and tossed back his whiskey, eyebrows going up when he tasted it. Unlike the whiskey at Bobby’s, which was likely home-brewed or from a box, this was _top shelf_ stuff. It went down smooth as ice, and didn’t burn his throat.  
  
“Another!” he declared, slamming the glass down on the bar and looking hopefully at the bartender.  
  
“Don’t go reliving the other night,” Sam hissed.  
  
With all the excitement at the bar, the teenager by the arcade machines wrapped up his game and stepped back, walking over slowly, watching the floor. In one hand, his young little brother was cupped, but little Sammy was watching Dean’s shoulder with something akin to awe. The other Sam was perched on a shoulder like it was nothing, chaperoning the kids.  
  
“How come _he_ gets to drink beer?” the young teenaged Dean bitched when he saw what Jacob had in his hands.  
  
“Because _you’re_ not old enough to drink in _Ireland,_ kiddo,” adult Dean countered without missing a beat. “Come back in a few years and then we’ll talk.”  
  
Jacob eyed the newcomers, even more bemused to find himself meeting yet another Dean. This one was younger than him this time, though he also had plenty of practice with the little guys.   
  
_Really_ little guys. The Sam on his hand wasn't even three inches tall. Jacob wasn't sure he would have recognized him as _Sam_ normally. The details of his tiny face were lost even just a few steps away.  
  
He smirked faintly and shrugged at the younger Dean. "My Dean gave me permission," he quipped.  
  
Even if it was cheeky of him, it was totally worth it to see the pouty scowl on the kid-Dean's face. He shot a grin to the Sam on the kid's shoulder. "Hey, Sam, Sam, and Dean," he greeted, bemused as ever by the fact that there was more than one of the Winchester brothers here. "I'm Jacob."  
  


* * *

  
Oscar had wandered around the room again after they all had their meal. With yet more people coming in, he had decided to make himself scarce again, and greet them on his own time.  
  
The new human was bigger than anyone he had ever seen in his life. Huge, and broad, even bigger than the adult Dean! Oscar all but dove behind the first structure he could.  
  
It happened to be the bar. He found out when he wandered around a corner and found the bartender right there, amiably cleaning a glass while he listened in to the introductions on the other side. Deep voices mixed with the quieter cadences of more people Oscar's size, but he wasn't thinking about that.  
  
He figured he should scurry back to one of the other tables. He didn't want to be in the way.  
  
As he turned, a shadow slid over him and he flinched. A hand dropped down in front of him, scooping under his feet. Oscar squeaked as he lost his balance and rolled onto a broad palm.  
  
It was a familiar feeling, but he still curled into a ball as the bartender lifted him off the floor. He caught a glimpse of the man's good-natured but very entertained smirk before the hand tilted. Oscar flailed his arms before rolling onto the polished wood top of the bar itself.  
  
"Oh," he muttered, counting how many people were around now. A lot more than he was used to, that was for sure.  
  
“Hey, Oz!” at least two voices said in time, one older and one younger. The smaller Sam and Dean, sitting bemused at their bar, looked back at their larger counterparts.  
  
“Oz?” the small Dean asked.  
  
That was when the teenager Dean noticed a _third_ version of him sitting at the bar. “Dude!” He scrambled into the seat next to regular Dean, letting his brother off onto the bartop to start over to Oscar and allowing the older Sam to climb casually down and saunter over to _his_ Dean.  
  
“Why’s everyone so surprised by me?” tiny Dean complained, eyeing up the younger version of himself with suspicion. After his larger counterpart had swiped him off Jacob, he was having a hard time letting his guard down.  
  
“What happened?” the regular Dean asked, brushing a fingertip over the tiny spike of hair and getting cussed out.  
  
Sam shrugged, sipping at his quart of beer. “Dad didn’t make it back in time, I’d say.” He eyed the two large Deans up. “I’m guessing that’s how you both got away.”  
  
“Still couldn’t get Sammy out of the way,” the youngest Dean said grimly.  
  
“But you caught him before Dad dragged you out of the room,” regular Dean corrected, softening as his own little brother walked past his arm to look at a Dean _his size_ with fascination. “Coulda been worse.”  
  
“Milk for growing bones!” the bartender announced, dropping two cups off at the tiny bar for the young Sam and Oscar where they stood.  
  
“What’s your story, kid?” called the smaller Dean from his spot. He patted the seat next to him. “C’mon! Join us!”  
  
Oscar looked up from his hands, where he was counting out how many people were at the bar now. Realizing that the Dean over there - a Dean at his scale! - was talking to him, he perked up in surprise. "O-okay," he answered, glancing to his Sam curiously.  
  
There sure were a lot of Sams and Deans to keep track of.  
  
He started towards the bar and finally noticed the biggest person there was watching him. His head tilted back to meet Jacob's curious but gentle gaze. Even from up on the bar, he was _huge._  
  
"Hey, bud," Jacob greeted as quietly as he could. His deep voice still startled the absolutely miniscule child. Oz couldn't be much more than two inches, even smaller than the young Sam walking with him.  
  
"Um. Hi!" Oscar replied, before finally reaching the bar. Scrambling up onto the stool next to the small Dean, he had to grip the edge to keep from spinning around on the stool. As fun as that sounded, he had at least one thing to set straight.  
  
He stared in awe at the Dean his size. Still a much taller man. "I'm Oscar, " he said, making sure the guy at least knew his actual name before the nickname sank in.  
  
“And _he’s_ shortstop,” regular Dean put in from behind their seats, smirking as his tiny doppleganger’s annoyed scowl.  
  
“My name is _not_ shortstop!” he snapped up at Dean. “At least my ass ain’t the size of _Texas!_ ”  
  
“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” Dean said dryly, a wry grin across his face as he needled his tiny double.  
  
“Dean, chill,” his Sam sighed, pushing against the hand Dean had draped near the tiny bar.  
  
Once the smaller Dean was sure Dean was done with his shit, and the second Sam sat down next to his young counterpart, waving for his own beer, to the annoyance of the teenager Dean (“ _Everyone_ gets a drink but me,” he mumbled in annoyance.), the smaller Dean was able to focus on Oscar.  
  
“Oscar, eh?” he asked, skipping on the nickname after his own trouble escaping his. “You been keeping these two out of trouble?”  
  
The young Sam sitting next to Oscar pulled his cup of milk closer and giggled. “Only _Dean_ gets himself into trouble!”  
  
Oscar grinned and nodded, following along with his Sam and answering Dean at the same time. After watching so many of the others bicker, with other versions of themselves, he was almost surprised to be addressed again. Normally he'd be more frightened in this situation, but for now he was simply nervous, and that was normal for him.  
  
He took a curious sip of his own glass of milk. The first time he ever tried it.  
  
"I showed Sam how ta climb! I showed my Sam, anyway," he explained, looking to the smaller Dean again and hoping for his approval.  
  
"An' I showed him how to get in the walls and hide and stuff, since he was new to being our size and he needed a teacher. I never got to be a teacher before. It was real fun, I wish.... I wish I coulda done more."  
  
The small Dean smiled, as proud as Oscar hoped. “You did exactly what you should.” Oscar beamed with pride of his own.  
  
“See Sam?” the regular Dean nudged his Sam, noticing that the two older Sams were sitting on the outside of the bar, guarding the others. “You coulda gotten by without Walt!”  
  
Sam huffed, pushing Dean’s finger away. “Looks like you did a good job,” he complemented Oscar, ruffling his younger counterpart’s hair. “And there’s always hope for another chance.” After hearing the kid’s story earlier, his heart went out for the youngest and scrawniest there. Oscar would be alone when he left the Lounge, the only one on his own out of everyone there.  
  
“So what about you two?” the regular Dean turned the question around on the pair of tiny Winchesters. “I have _got_ to hear about how you two hooked up with Godzilla over here!”  
  
That Sam smirked. “It all started with this pie we found…”  
  
“Do _not_ insult the pie!” tiny Dean bitched, sweeping his slice protectively off the bar and cradling it close. “That was the best pie I’ve ever had!”  
  
Jacob laughed, keeping it quiet for the small, sensitive ears of the smaller occupants of the bar. The nickname that his own Dean had given him almost sounded strange coming from someone else. It was another Dean, with a story of his own, arriving at the same exact jab at Jacob's size.  
  
"It was kinda a rough start," he admitted, watching as little Oscar eyed the slice of pie Dean was defending. Without even having to ask, the kid had his own tiny slice placed in front of him by that ever-amused bartender. It was like he pulled things out of thin air.  
  
"I was between jobs and I stopped at a diner, left a slice of pie in a to go box on the table. _Someone_ couldn't resist." He winked at his own Dean, getting their story going while the others listened in.  
  
Above their heads, the television screen rippled until the words **Chasing Family** were proudly displayed.  
  
Soon, the bartender knew, more would join them.  
  
The fun was only just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Current AUs in the Lounge:**
> 
> **Brothers Together** (Teenager big Dean; tiny kiddo Sam)  
>  **Brothers Apart** (The original Dean and Sam)  
>  **Brothers Lost** (Big Jacob with the tiny bros) ****** New Arrivals
> 
>  
> 
> We don't just break fourth walls, we smash them.
> 
> Comments and kudos are love!


	3. A Jacob a Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Current AUs in the Lounge:**
> 
> **Brothers Together** (Teenager big Dean; tiny kiddo Sam; tiny kiddo Oscar)  
>  **Brothers Apart** (The original Dean and Sam)  
>  **Brothers Lost** (Big Jacob with the tiny bros) **  
> Brothers Found** (Big Dean and Jacob, tiny Sam) ******** New Arrivals**

Dean blinked,  _hard,_  trying to clear his eyes.  
  
Seconds ago, he’d closed his eyes to fall asleep. Next thing he knew, he was on his feet, standing in the dark outside some door with  **The Lounge**  glowing above in neon letters. A puff of warm air left his mouth in surprise, mixing with the chill of the night to turn into a brief smoke cloud, vanishing as he watched.  
  
“Can we go in?” came a voice from his hand, and he glanced down in surprise.  
  
Crouched in his palm, Sam was rubbing his hands up and down his arms, trying to warm up. At only four inches tall, that wasn’t the easiest thing in the world.  
  
“Yeah, got it,” Dean said, automatically bringing his hand to his chest to try shielding Sam from the cold air. He put a hand on the door, expecting it to be closed, but it opened right up.  
  
The cold vanished as he stepped over the threshold, and Dean felt himself relax as he stepped in, automatically looking around for any threats to Sam. Though they’d only been reunited for a night, Dean’s protective instincts from childhood had reared, and he was on guard for Sam’s sake.  
  
“Watch it!” a voice bitched from the ground, and Dean nearly stumbled, eyes widening as he saw not one person by his boot, but  _two._  
  
One hand on his hip, the other wrapped around the world’s tiniest glass of whisky, the smallest Dean glared at the newcomer. The Sam with him took a few quick steps, getting out of the giant Dean’s way as fast as he could, but his brother stood his ground.  
  
“You can’t go walking around  _blind,_ ” Dean snipped up at his counterpart. “What happens if Oscar’s around, huh? Watch your step!”  
  
With that, he hitched his duffel up and stalked off, following Sam on their journey towards the pool tables and leaving a very,  _very_  confounded Dean standing in their wake.  
  
Not far behind, Jacob found himself staring in confusion at the neon sign above the door. The deep bruising around one eye almost blurred the sight of it. He shrugged inwardly and gave the door a test push.  
  
He was surprised to find the place open, but then again if he was dreaming, why wouldn't it be? He stepped inside, only to stop short.  
  
There was Dean, standing there with Sam on a hand. He looked shocked, like his brain was rebooting after seeing something he hadn't expected.  
  
Just a second later, Jacob understood why.  
  
The place looked like any normal bar/diner kind of place. Tables for chatting, as well as tables for poker or pool were arranged all around, with arcade consoles against the wall. Some teenager only a year or two younger than Jacob stood playing, and standing nearby watching the game...  
  
Himself?  
  
It was definitely Jacob, wearing a hoodie like was his signature. The main difference was in height; he was several inches taller and quite a bit broader.  
  
"Uh. Does this usually happen after you take care of a restless ghost?"  
  
Dean was distracted enough by the strange, swaggering double of himself that was walking around down on the floor, making a beeline for the pool tables, that he didn’t glare at Jacob for getting close to Sam. As far as he was concerned, the kid was on probation for injuring Sam during their first encounter.  
  
Jacob’s main redeeming grace was the fact that Sam  _was_  there, safely cupped in Dean’s hand.  _Protectively_  cupped, with the way Dean was eyeing up their strange surroundings even as the atmosphere of the lounge began to work its magic on even him.  
  
“ _Dude,_ ” Dean hissed at Jacob, “there is a  _mini-me_  walking around over there!” He didn’t have any more of an idea what was going on than Jacob.  
  
Jacob's eyebrows shot up and he followed Dean's gaze. He couldn't see the two small figures very clearly, since they'd already made some progress walking away, but something insistent in his head said that it was indeed a mini-Dean. With another mini-Sam of his own walking with him.  
  
"There's a ... a bigger me over there too," he pointed out, eyeing the others in the room. The ones he could see. He glanced at the floor again, wondering if anyone else would be underfoot.  
  
"Th-there's lotsa everybodies," a tiny voice piped up from the nearest table. Jacob glanced over, but he didn't see anyone there.  
  
A tiny table and chairs sat in the center of the table, and he stared at it for a second before noticing an extra shadow near it. Someone was hiding behind it, though the little voice was so faint and timid he could swear he'd imagined it.  
  
He almost stepped around the table to peek at whoever was hiding there, and then reprimanded himself. He hadn't had a great first impression on Sam. He could do better with another little person, no matter where they were.  
  
"I guess this is the place for 'em," Jacob finally answered.  
  
Dean had to suppress his first instinct to see who was hiding from them same as Jacob. The little shadow looked  _tiny--_  not even as big as Sam.  
  
Lowering his hand to the table, Dean jabbed a finger at Jacob. “Behave!” he snapped as he felt Sam step off his hand, going over to the table and chairs made for his size.  
  
Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s overprotective instincts. “Dude, he’s been  _fine,_  lay off a little.”  
  
Then his attention was drawn to the small setup at the center of the massive, human-sized table. A table and chairs, along with placemats, napkin holders, utensils set up at each seat… it was unreal. And all small enough to go in Dean’s pocket.  
  
Sam didn’t get too close, only crouching down to see if he could spot the new person. “Hey,” he said warmly, hoping to meet another person his size, “my name’s Sam, what’s yours?”  
  
Oscar's cheeks warmed and he offered Sam a sheepish smile from where he crouched, under the table next to one of the chairs. His wild hair actually brushed the underside of the table, something that never happened with normal ones. He wished he could say the novelty of the mini furniture was what prompted him to hide under it. But in reality, he'd simply been startled by the entrance of more giants.   
  
"Hi, Sam," he greeted, inching closer. He could lean out to peek up at the others, finding another tall adult Dean but a younger Jacob.  
  
"I'm Oscar. I like exploring in here ... I was gonna go try games with my own Sam but I keep finding new things I wanna look at." As he rambled out his explanation, he scooted further out into the open, staying near the new Sam.  
  
Jacob, though he'd been warned to keep back, couldn't help his fascinated staring. Oscar was even tinier than Sam, something he hadn't even considered possible.  
  
"Hope we didn't interrupt your exploring, Oscar," he said quietly.  
  
Oscar's eyes widened and he shook his head so fast that his wild hair was ruffled. "Uh-uh, I-I was just under the table because.... because I wanted to try hiding like a human can!"  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Sam said, a smile blossoming over his face at the little guy. He pushed himself to his feet to give Oscar a little room to come out if he wanted, and glanced fondly back at Dean. “I know they’re a little big, but they both try,” Sam told Oscar. “I only just found Dean again yesterday.”  
  
Dean took a look around to make sure there were no  _other_  little people about to appear underfoot, noting that his tiny counterpart was already over at the entertainment section with the other tiny Sam, setting up a pool table made for their size. Then, he stepped forward and cautiously took a seat near his Sam, unable to completely avoid hovering close.   
  
He’d only just found Sam, he wasn’t about to let him out of arm’s reach.  
  
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Dean promised Oscar, folding his arms.  
  
"Oh," Oscar replied, finally edging all the way out from under the table. He glanced past the new Dean to the new Jacob, noticing that the other human didn't opt to sit at the table, too. Oscar couldn't blame him; sometimes Dean (any Dean!) could be intimidating.  
  
Oscar fidgeted with his little cloth bag while the other Jacob glanced around the room. The others were probably picking up the facts about the place like anyone new did. The Lounge had that weird effect, but no one really questioned it.  
  
He decided he could always help it along, too. These were another Sam and Dean, new versions of his best friends in the world.  
  
"You can go talk to anyone and rest wherever," he explained to the nearby Sam. "There's lots of everyone here, the other Jacob even came with a Sam  _and_  a Dean our size! The smaller Dean really likes the pie the bartender makes, I tried some and it's good."  
  
"I bet it was," Jacob answered with a smile. He was endeared by the tiny child hovering near Sam, but opted to keep some distance. He didn't want to give the Dean he knew a reason to snip at him again; Jacob had hurt his Sam, and was still on probation for it.  
  
“Yea, I think we already met those two,” Dean grumbled, remembering the mini-him that had snipped at him first thing.  
  
“Dean got himself in trouble,” Sam chimed in. “Gotta watch his step around… himself.” He was bemused by the entire concept of a brother standing at his scale. A snicker leaked out, unable to contain it anymore.  
  
Oscar covered his mouth with a hand, but it didn't stop a quiet laugh of his own, catching it from Sam. He was only keeping up with how many Deans there were because the atmosphere of the Lounge helped him. He couldn't even imagine what the actual Deans and Sams were feeling, seeing so many doubles of themselves. Part of him hoped a group might arrive with another Oscar so he wouldn't be the odd one out.  
  
"It's kinda scary walking out in the middle of the floor, but I kinda like that we  _can,_ " he mused. Going back home after this would be a bitter disappointment. "I can show you around, if you wanna, when you're done resting. I've been exploring since I got here."  
  
Jacob smiled faintly. Oscar was opening right up after starting out hiding from them, though he stayed close to Sam. It probably comforted the kid to have someone his own size nearby; he was so  _tiny._  
  
"I might go and say hi to ... me," he said, offering the kid a little wave. "But I'll take you up on your tour if you want to later."  
  
"Kay," Oscar answered shyly, tilting his head back to meet Jacob's gaze. He wasn't as tall as the other Jacob just yet ... but he was still a  _big_  human.  
  
“Just don’t bugging any of the smaller guys,” Dean warned Jacob, glued to his seat so long as Sam remained near Oscar. “Me or not.”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes and stalked over to Dean’s hand to deal a sharp kick at it. “Dean! You’re the one that’s making a bigger deal out of things than you should!”  
  
Dean’s eyebrows went up in mock offense, moving his hand out of range of Sam. “I’m not the one who got myself caught!”  
  
Sam flipped Dean the bird and turned back to Oscar. “I’d love to hear what you know about this place,” he said welcomingly. “It’s a good start before we go… pissing off any other Deans.” He smirked.  
  
Jacob mirrored Sam's smirk, though he tried to make sure Dean didn't spot it. He took his leave of their table and felt less like he was looming over Sam and Oscar so much. Even up on the table, they could easily fall into someone's shadow.  
  
He wandered closer to the entertainment area where his counterpart stood. The kid on the arcade machine was intent on it, and Jacob noticed belatedly that someone else was on the mini-version of the arcade console, too. The systems were put together so well that Jacob couldn't even tell who was playing who.  
  
Getting closer, he realized there were two small figures at one of the tiny pool tables. The other Jacob was absently watching both games, hands in his hoodie pocket.  
  
"Hey," Jacob greeted, unsure. He couldn't pass up the opportunity to talk to himself face to face, but wasn't actually sure what he'd say.  
  
The older Jacob grinned. "Hey, dude, good to see another me around. But who gave you the shiner?"  
  
The newcomer Jacob touched faintly at the bruised skin around his eye. "I uh. The Dean I know actually decked me pretty soon after meeting him. Didn't ... make a good impression on him."  
  
“Score one for the Deans!” Dean called up to the Jacobs as he bridged his fingers on the pool table, pulling back and striking at the cue ball. The tiny clinking of pool balls could be heard from down on the table as he took the first shot, scoring two balls in the pocket holes. “Awesome!” he declared, prowling around the side of the table to size up his next shot.  
  
Sam was standing to the side, absently rubbing the tip of pool stick. Having shrunk at ten, he only remembered a few vague lessons from Dean on the game, all done furtively at the bar while their dad was busy. Dean had declared it time for some overdue lessons the second he discovered there was equipment tailored to  _their_  size, including pool sticks aplenty to choose from. He’d tested the heft and weight of a few, finding one that felt perfect to him and had Sam test out some.  
  
Dean lined up his next shot, and sunk it in the side pocket. “See that, Sammy? Just gotta learn from the master,” he said, just this side of preening as he took another shot. This one bounced off, and he surrendered the table to Sam.  
  
“So, Dean got the best of you?” Dean called up to the new Jacob by their table, smirking. “Godzilla over here is regretting the first time he grabbed  _me_ , let me tell you.”  
  
The taller Jacob rolled his eyes, but didn't deny it. Instead, one hand emerged from his pocket and he held it out to show off two healing scars. One adorned his fingertip, and the other had been a nasty gash closer down on his arm. "They definitely make an impression, these Winchesters."  
  
Younger Jacob's eyebrows shot up. He held up his thumb, displaying the bandaging wrapped tightly around it. His 'impression' from his own Sam was much more recent. "Sam really caught me off guard with his knife," he agreed mulishly. He knew he'd earned it.  
  
"Looks like your Dean had something to say, too," older Jacob said with a grin. "Don't worry. If he's anything like this guy," he pointed a thumb down at the tiny, smug Dean on the table, "he'll probably come around eventually."  
  
Young Jacob nodded, glancing between the three of them. "So ... I'm guessing you found them together?" he asked his older self. "I just found Sam, we had to go  _find_ Dean."  
  
Sam focused on his shot, trying to ignore the banter around him. His pool stick hit the cue ball, and the white ball jumped.  
  
“Scratch!” Dean said sternly. He picked up a tiny blue square from the edge of the table and tossed it at Sam. To either Jacob, it would look the size of a grain of rice, but for the brothers it would serve its purpose. “Don’t rub the chalk off the tip,” he chided as Sam begrudgingly chalked his pool stick. “Try again.”  
  
Dean replaced the cue ball on the table, and Sam attempted the shot again, this time hitting the ball off one of the solids and sinking it in the pocket. He grinned.  
  
“ _We_  found Godzilla,” Dean corrected the younger Jacob, looking away from Sam’s lesson. “Or at least, his pie.”  
  
The so-called 'Godzilla' smirked again and shrugged. "Looks like us Jacobs have trouble with first impressions," he pointed out. "And yet Dean here still gave me a job as their driver."  
  
Younger Jacob's eyebrows went up. "You got to drive the Impala?" It was obvious to anyone who saw Dean near that black-and-chrome behemoth that it was important to him. The care that went into that car was meticulous.  
  
“Jacob helped  _rebuild_  the Impala,” Dean corrected again as Sam took another shot. “Since Dad didn’t have the heart to drive her anymore.”  
  
Sam sunk a second ball, straightening proudly. Now he was closing the gap between him and Dean. There was a chance he could turn this lesson around on his older brother. He lined up a third shot while Dean was distracted lecturing  _two_  Jacobs.  
  
“And now he’s part of the team,” Dean finished, “since we needed a driver. Hey--!”  
  
Dean finally spotted Sam as he sank a third ball, huge grin on his face. “You were saying about lessons?”  
  
The older Jacob smirked. Sam always had that way of keeping Dean in check, especially since his size made him extra hotheaded. Inwardly, he was proud all over again that he'd gotten enough trust to be invited along on hunts with the small Winchesters. His younger self would probably get his own Dean's trust, eventually.  
  
For now, he was welcome to hang out with them. Older Jacob leaned down slightly to count out what remained on the pool table with Sam slowly turning the tide in his favor. "Got some catching up to do, Dean," he quipped, knowing it would just rile him up even more.  
  
Younger Jacob cracked a grin of his own. He reached down to the stand where the unused pool sticks waited. It took some work, but he managed to pinch one in his fingers without knocking the others over.  
  
"I got next game," he jested, brandishing the little thing proudly.  
  
Dean gave Jacob a flat look back, but Sam chimed in, “You bet!” as he sunk his fourth in a row.  
  
“Since when are you a sniper?” Dean bitched as he sized up the table, and Sam missed his fifth hit. “You didn’t even know what chalk was a few minutes ago!”  
  
Sam shrugged. “Beginners luck?”  
  
And he grinned.  
  
"Or just a good hustle," the older Jacob muttered, his own grin widening. He hadn't had much chance to get to know this Sam yet. He did know, however, that Sam knew all the precise buttons to push to needle his brother. Growing up together with almost no one else around would do that.  
  
"Good thing you didn't put anything on the line for this game," younger Jacob added in.  
  
“Maybe next time,” Sam said, sauntering to the side.  
  
Dean took a few more shots, glowering when he scratched on the second, and Sam took his place. The game was quickly over between the brothers as Sam took out each of his balls one after the other, and the last was a double, and then the eight ball in the corner pocket.  
  
“Rack ‘em, loser,” Sam said jauntily.


	4. Time to Go, Champ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Interlude_

The Lounge was a lively place, but for once Oscar didn’t mind. Back in the motel, if a room was full of humans being loud or boisterous, he had to avoid them at all costs. They couldn’t find out he was there, or he’d be in danger.  
  
It wasn’t the same in the Lounge, where they all knew he was around and they all seemed willing to look out for him. He could walk across the open floor safely, and the most he’d get was a hello from a Dean or a Jacob standing high overhead. He could explore as much as he wanted, and even go get food whenever he felt like it.  
  
When he got a strange feeling in his core that he had to  _leave,_  he didn’t like it at all. His eyes strayed to the tall doorway and he frowned.  
  
Beyond this strange place, he would be alone again. Left behind just when he thought he might get to leave his motel and not be afraid anymore. He’d go back to hiding away from everyone and hoping he might find enough crumbs to eat every day.  
  
He didn’t want to leave. It was just like his Dean had mentioned so early on, when others first started arriving. He didn’t want to leave.  
  
Oscar glanced around to see what the others were doing, but no one else seemed to notice anything amiss. With a sigh, he found a space under one of the tables and huddled down. Maybe, if he didn’t come out for a while, it would be like he  _had_  left, without actually going anywhere. Maybe.  
  
A pair of shiny black leather shoes and black slacks ambled towards the table. They definitely didn’t belong to any of the Deans or either of the Jacobs. Those guys all wore jeans. Oscar wasn’t the only one, in fact, watching the progress of those steps with rapt attention.  
  
The bartender never came out from behind the bar, it seemed. Until now.  
  
Oscar huddled even smaller as the steps came towards the very table where he hid. He tried to scoot around the base to put something between them, but stopped just as the footsteps did. As he watched, the man knelt down so he could see under the table.  
  
Golden eyes that usually lit up with some hidden mischief fixed on him right away, and Oscar froze. There was almost pity there. He was so surprised that he didn’t even argue or try to squirm away when a hand reached under the table to scoop him up. He clung to the bartender’s thumb as he was lifted up, out from the shadows.  
  
“Hey, champ,” Gabriel greeted him, smirking at the kid. Even to him, a head shorter than any of the other human-sized folk in the Lounge, Oscar was small when seated on his palm. “You got a job to do.”  
  
Oscar huffed quietly and pushed himself to his feet. He felt like it hardly made a difference at all; he still looked so tiny on a hand. Whoever was still watching from other tables could probably hardly see him.  
  
“I … I don’t want to,” he admitted, his voice breaking in the middle. His eyes stung and his vision blurred, but he tried to keep it together. He really tried.  
  
The bartender’s eyebrows went up and he shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ manner. “I know it, kid. I put together a pretty sweet place to hang out. But right now you gotta go.”  
  
Oscar took a steadying breath and some quiet tears raced down his cheeks. He couldn’t quite find the words to explain just how  _lonely_  he would be if he left. Here, he had multiple copies of his only friends in the whole world, and then some. Here, he was warm and safe and fed.  
  
“I don’t wanna  _leave,_ ” he echoed. He didn’t even try to brush away the tears this time and he sniffled. “Why can’t I just stay here?”  
  
Gabriel sighed and his invisible wings shifted uncomfortably. He was all about playing pranks whenever possible. He reveled in the kinds of things humans could come up with on their own, and when it called for it a playful nudge was always ready. And, when he thought they needed to be taught a thing or two, he was right there with a lesson tailor made to them. Just desserts, like a cake with their names iced on the top right before he tossed them into a wormhole (to name one of his simpler examples).  
  
This kid … as far as he knew, there wasn’t a lesson he needed to be taught. He’d definitely earned a chance to stay in a place as awesome as the Lounge, but…  
  
“Sorry, kid. I don’t make the rules … well, I did. But they’re like that for a reason.”  
  
Oscar stared imploringly for a second longer before ducking his head and brushing at his eyes. It only made room for more tears to come, as he all but gave up on his argument. He didn’t have it in him to fight hard like the Winchesters did.  
  
“Woah, woah, buddy,” Gabriel said, interrupting the kid’s crying and ignoring the others completely. “I didn’t say you couldn’t come  _back,_  now did I? You just gotta go take care of something and then,” he snapped the fingers on his other hand, “you’ll be back and your friends will be waiting.”  
  
Oscar didn’t look up, but he nodded anyway. He knew the Lounge would welcome him back, but he wished he didn’t have to go. Not back to what he had in his actual reality.  
  
“I’ll getcha to the door, kid. You just gotta walk through it,” Gabriel told him gently. Oscar swayed on his hand as he moved, but Gabriel had steadier hands than any human alive. He knelt smoothly by the door to let the kid step off, never once jostling him on the way.  
  
Oscar stood in front of the huge door while the bartender stood back to his full height and pushed it open with one hand. No one could really tell what was beyond that threshold. It was just  _outside_  the Lounge. Nothing more, nothing less.  
  
Oscar glanced over his shoulder to see the others in the room one last time before he faced forward and walked through it.


	5. A Dean in the Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Current AUs in the Lounge:**
> 
> **Brothers Together**  (Teenager big Dean; tiny kiddo Sam; tiny kiddo Oscar)  
>  **Brothers Apart**  (The original Dean and Sam)  
>  **Brothers Lost**  (Big Jacob with the tiny bros)  ******** Departing**  
>  **Brothers Found**  (Big Dean and Jacob, tiny Sam)  
>  **Brothers Adopted**  (Big Dean, tiny Jacob and Sam)  ******** New Arrivals**

Time, that endless flow that the Lounge existed without, passed outside the doors. Within, the different groups mingled, each with their own stories and tales to tell the others. From time to time, the smallest member of the Lounge, little Oscar whom even the bartender loved to see come around and peek out into view, would have to leave, called by a mysterious summons.  
  
But he always came back, and always went back over to his young Dean and Sam, who were delighted to see him and managed to take away the sadness that fell over him each time.  
  
Between serving whiskeys and pies and mysteriously bussing tables without ever being seen, Gabriel kept a sharp eye on the TV suspended above his bar. On it, the flashing colors belonging to each AU switched between different polls, and he was surprised to see the same group get voted in a second time.  **Family Ties**  turned into  **First Hunt,**  glowing its win.  
  
Over at the table with the two Jacobs sitting, they watched the tiny Winchesters go through a few games, Dean quickly putting up a better fight now that he knew Sam was his equal at the game. It grew more heated between them, but all in good fun with the occasional call to “Rack ‘em, loser!” when one won.  
  
The original Dean of the crew came strolling over to watch the game, his mouth quirked into a smile as he saw his tiny counterpart clearing the table with one stroke after the other.  
  
Then, to the smaller Dean’s eternal consternation, Dean swept him right up off the table with a shit-eating grin right after his winning stroke sunk the eight ball in the corner pocket.  
  
“What’s the big idea?” Dean griped up at his giant counterpart, batting at the fingers around him. As fast as this Dean was, his grip was always surprisingly gentle.  
  
“Oh, nothing,” Dean said innocently. “Just figured you might want to see how the big boys play.” With a grin, he plunked tiny Dean right down on the pool table, still a mess from an earlier game with the solid balls still on the table, all the stripes gone.  
  
“Jackass!” Dean shot up at him, shoving a yellow  **1**  out of his way as he stalked for the edge.  
  
To the side, Gabriel watched all the happenings between the groups, always alert for any actual danger between the different sizes. Danger was discouraged, but jokes and pranks…  
  
Well, those were fully encouraged and endorsed.  
  
Both Jacobs were just as surprised by how quickly the larger of the two Deans had just swept up his tiny counterpart. The younger Jacob, still sporting a black eye that was doing a lot better since he came into the lounge, stood from his seat to wander over to the pool. Behind him, the other Jacob held out a hand for the Sam who'd been left on his own.  
  
Young-Jacob stared at the  **1**  ball as it rolled slowly to a stop only a few inches from where it started. The mini-Dean looked so  _small_  among the normal-sized pool balls.  
  
Ever wary of how his own Dean didn't want him around the little guys, Jacob didn't immediately move to offer a hand. "I think this table's more of a football field," he mused.  
  
“A football field with a  _jackass_  giant!” Dean griped up from where he was walking. The edges of the table had places he could climb down without his hook and thread, so that’s where he headed.  
  
The larger Dean chuckled, lining up a shot with the cue ball and lightly nudging it towards the  **1**. It was barely a love tap, sending the ball into Dean’s way as he stalked by. With a swear, the smaller Dean kicked at the ball.  
  
A second Dean strolled over, his hands in his pockets as he looked over the pool table. “Mini-me’s having some issues there,” he commented to the Sam on his shoulder.  
  
The original Dean frowned at him. “How old are you, anyway?” he inquired as he took aim at the yellow  **1**  again.  
  
Dean scowled. “I’m 26, dude!” he griped, looking annoyed at the question.  
  
Dean chuckled as he tapped the cue ball again to piss of the smaller Dean. “I’m 27.”  
  
“Yeah, well I’m 28 which means  _I’m_  in charge around here!” the little Dean snapped, shoving the cue ball back at his larger counterpart only to make the man chuckle again as he steadied the ball.  
  
While they bickered by the pool tables, the screen above Gabriel flickered, and this time there were four names listed above, flashing as it was decided which one would post next.  
  
 **Like a Moth to Flame  
  
Sam of Wellwood  
  
The Water’s Fine  
  
Bothering Bowman**  
  
Gabriel mused that if Dean couldn’t find his way off the pool table by the time the vote ended, he’d get a free ticket off if his story came up.  
  
The taller of the two Jacobs wandered over last, drawn by the bickering. Sam was back on his shoulder, a good perch for someone his size to still be able to see what was going on. Especially around all these other lookalike Deans. Jacob watched his step as he joined the others there, in case anyone else was also heading in the same direction to see what the commotion was.  
  
Seeing Dean standing  _on_  the table, surrounded by pool balls that would outweigh him by several times, made him raise his eyebrows. Glancing between the two taller Deans and finally his younger counterpart, Jacob wondered at the fact that the little guy was … not as upset as he could be.  
  
A number of lectures over his month or so knowing the cursed Dean came to mind. He was definitely taking this prank very well.  
  
Jacob was ready to offer him a hand anyway, and get him out of the dangerous spot, but something else drew his attention. The door to the Lounge opened, and both Jacobs turned in unison to see who else was coming in.  
  
It looked like another Dean, judging just by the posture and the spike of hair on top of his silhouette. What set him apart from the others, though, was the fact that there were  _two_  small figures on his shoulder, not just one.  
  
The newest Dean blinked, working to focus on his strange new surroundings. One minute he was in the car, falling asleep under the stars with his two brothers-- one related by blood, the second adopted into the family that day-- the next, he was here. Fully clothed, his hair a sharp spike, he was certainly dressed for a night on the town.  
  
On his shoulder, Sam wasn’t alone. Next to him was a second familiar figure clinging as Dean took a swaying step into the lounge.  
  
“Dude, come on in!” The original Dean beckoned them over, tossing his pool stick from one hand to the other. “You’ve gotta see this place!”  
  
With him distracted, the smaller Dean set out determinedly for the edge of the table.  
  
The taller of the two Jacobs standing near the pool table kept an eye on Dean for a second, making sure he could get himself to safety unhindered. Then, assured the little guy wasn't about to tumble into a side pocket, he offered the new Dean a welcoming smile and a wave as he approached. "Just be sure to look out for Oscar. He could be wandering anywhere."  
  
The younger Jacob forgot his manners in a stunned silence for a second. His eyes were on the new guy's shoulder and the pair perched up there. "Dude," he hissed, elbowing his counterpart in the side.  
  
A third  _Jacob_  had arrived, and he was cursed-size.  
  
"Holy shit," both the tallest and smallest Jacob muttered, one amazed and one apprehensive.  
  
The newest Dean blinked as he looked around the room. “Ain’t I seein’ double?” he asked the figures on his shoulder. “Is that--”  
  
Sam shook his head, his hair flying into a mess at the violent action. “That’s Jacob!” he exclaimed, pointing at the shorter of the two, then he hesitated, his arm drooping as he looked at the second Jacob, taller and broader than the first.  
  
As though a six-foot tall Jacob wasn’t big enough.  
  
Dean slowly approached the table with a pair of  _him_  and a pair of Jacob standing around, then realized there was someone  _on_  the table, stalking angrily off like he had the biggest chip on his shoulder.  
  
Past pool balls almost as tall as he was.  
  
“Is that a  _mini-me!_ ” Dean sputtered when he realized the guy looked familiar. In fact, identical, once you looked past the handwoven clothing.  
  
"Dude, I was gonna say that," the taller Jacob quipped, eyeing the littler of the guys on Dean's shoulder. He offered himself a smile, and got one in return, although the smaller Jacob was still shell-shocked by the strange place.  
  
"Woah, wait," he said, breaking out of his daze to notice the guy his Dean was staring at. "Is that what you'd look like if you were like us?" he asked. He waved, trying to get the smaller Dean's attention with a greeting.  
  
All he got in return was the bird flipped at him. “ _Why_  is everyone so fascinated by me,” the smaller Dean griped. He grabbed to the edge of the pool table and hauled himself up so he was no longer standing on the green.  
  
“Oh, I dunno,” the original Dean drawled, placing his pool stick back on the rack. “Could be because you’re the  _only_  one of us that got cursed?”  
  
The little Dean huffed. “I tried my best!”  
  
Dean offered him a smile and held out his hand invitingly. “Never said you didn’t, shortstop,” he said warmly. “You’re one of us.”  
  
“Just the  _smallest_  one of us,” said the younger Dean lurking nearby and keeping an eye on his Jacob, who continued to be on probation.  
  
The newest Dean walked closer, his two little brothers watching avidly. “So… this place is safe for them?”  
  
“ _Made_  for us!” Sam called from his perch with the tallest Jacob there.  
  
That prompted the smaller Jacob to glance around and observe more closely. After trying to greet the smaller Dean had backfired, he figured he'd stick with the Dean he knew for now, but his eyes widened when he saw a miniature pool table just like the huge one laid out before them, over on one of the other tables.  
  
"Dude, he's not kidding," he told his Sam. He glanced over to the bar, with its miniature stools, and even places for them to climb up with ease. "Holy shit, this is cool!"  
  
“That’s what I said!” the little Dean called over from his place. “See?” He turned his annoyed look up at the Dean who’d kidnapped him from his chosen pool table, and got only a look of innocence back.  
  
The newest Dean in the room chuckled at that, walking over to the table to let his smaller brothers off. “I doubt I’ll fit at the table, but you two could probably manage a game or two without me,” he said wryly.  
  
The television over the bar rippled, and the words  **The Water’s Fine**  took over the entire screen.  
  
The pair of cursed brothers, Sam and Dean, along with Jacob, could feel a strange echo inside them at that, and Sam glanced at the door.  
  
“I think that’s our ride,” Sam told Jacob.  
  
Jacob nodded. "Yeah, I guess, time to go find some trouble," he mused. Back in the real world, they hadn't gone on a hunt as a team yet. Hell, the Impala was fresh from all the work Dean had had him do on it. Jacob liked the Lounge, but he was ready to see what was next for them.  
  
"Dean, wanna make bets on who's the big hero in this one?" he joked, holding out a hand for the smaller Dean.  
  
Once he had both brothers back to their perches on his shoulders, the tallest Jacob there bade everyone an amiable farewell wave.  
  
Meanwhile, a much smaller Jacob was making himself comfortable in the Lounge for his stay, climbing down to the table after his Dean helped him there. He glanced between the many tall Deans around, and realized that, despite them all looking  _identical,_  he knew which one was his without any trouble. There was just a feeling.  
  
The third and final Jacob, one who was still careful not to crowd any of the little guys, inched closer, still fascinated at the sight of a tiny version of himself. "So ... what's your story?" he asked the three newcomers.  
  
Sam grinned up at him, beyond thrilled to know that there were other Jacobs out there besides his own, ones that managed to escape the curse, whether he’d escaped it himself or not.  
  
“I found Jacob a few years back when he got cursed, and dragged his ass out of the line of fire, and then  _this guy,_ ” Sam jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Dean, who simply arched his eyebrows innocently and poked Sam in the side, “blunders on in and sticks my adopted brother under a vase…”


	6. Sams of a Feather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Current AUs in the Lounge:**
> 
> **Brothers Together**  (Teenager big Dean; tiny kiddo Sam; tiny kiddo Oscar)  
>  **Brothers Apart**  (The original Dean and Sam)  
>  **Brothers Lost**  (Big Jacob with the tiny bros)   
>  **Brothers Found**  (Big Dean and Jacob, tiny Sam)  
>  **Brothers Adopted**  (Big Dean, tiny Sam and tiny Jacob)  ******** Departing  
> ** **Brothers Asunder**  (Big Jacob, spritely Sam and Bowman) ******** New Arrivals**

The door to the Lounge opened, and two green blurs swooped in, one spiraling around the other, who kept up a steady pace as he always did.  
  
Sam Winchester, a knight of Wellwood, was surprised to find himself in a darker area, one that had no resemblance to his home in the forest. There, sunlight trickled in through the vibrant green leaves, giving life and warmth to the sprites who called it home.  
  
Here, there were no trees rising up into the air. Instead, walls hemmed them in, containing a large space that was full of massive tables and chairs, laughing voices--  
  
Sam pulled up on his glider, nearly halting in midair as he saw  _who_  was in the room.  
  
“D-Dean?” he said in disbelief, spotting a man leaning over a pool table aiming up a shot to sink the eight ball.  
  
Then, he nearly twisted in place, seeing  _another_  man dressed just like Dean at the bar, joking around with a slice of pie.  
  
“W-what is this place?” Sam asked, his voice shaking.  
  
"How about you  _land_  before asking questions!" Bowman answered, even as he banked around to take hold of the handle bars atop Sam's glider. With his extra momentum, he dragged the glider forward through the air so Sam didn't plummet, and aimed them for one of the many tables.  
  
As much as Bowman wanted to meet Dean Winchester himself, he wasn't about to shirk his duties. When Sam flew with him, they had to look out for each other.  
  
"There's two blasted Jacobs, too," he groused as he lead the slow dive to their landing. A glance behind showed that the Jacob they knew was still waiting in the (annoyingly square) doorway.  
  
"Dude, what the hell..." the newest Jacob muttered, staring around the room. Hesitantly, he stepped across the threshold so the door could close behind him, and followed the descent of the two green shapes he already knew among a room full of people he only  _thought_  he knew.  
  
The new entrants to the room had not gone unnoticed by anyone. With their green clothing and vibrant wings, they stood out among the drab colors of a dive bar, nearly glowing in the luminescent light.  
  
And, naturally, were recognized.  
  
“Bowman!” one of the Deans called, the one loitering around the pool tables. A broad grin split his face as he saw the sprite landing on the table with a second winged ally.  
  
He didn’t get the sense from Bowman that he was the same sprite they’d met a few cases back, but that didn’t much matter in a place like this.  
  
“Who’s that with him?” Sam asked, motioning for Dean to give him a lift.  
  
Dean scooped him up and dropped him on his shoulder with a bit more casual of a motion than normal. “Dunno,” he said, wandering towards the new trio. His eyes widened as the other person came into focus, removing belts that held him to a pair of wings designed much like Bowman’s.  
  
“ _Sam?_ ”  
  
The spritely Winchester looked up, briefly filled with hope as he saw there was a Dean standing there. A mountain of disappointment hit him as he saw a second figure sitting on his shoulder, his face falling. He glanced around, looking for a Dean without a Sam.  
  
But there was none.  
  
“What is this place?” he asked again, looking back at the original Dean and Sam.  
  
Dean gestured towards the bar, a wistful smile on his face as he realized just what was bothering the little guy. This was the first Winchester who didn’t have his brother with him. “Just a place to chill for a bit before you go find your own Dean. Plenty of booze to go around.”  
  
Bowman stood near Sam, if only to keep close to the only familiar part about the room. He stared up at this 'Dean' that had called him by name, but just like his own Sam he'd noticed the figure on his shoulder.  
  
_That_  was a weird sight. He'd grown up knowing Sam to wear the greens of the forest, in the proud uniform of the knights. The other Sam didn't even appear to have a sword on him.  
  
He crossed his arms. Even as he addressed Dean, their Jacob hesitantly wandered over to join them. " _What_  is 'booze?’ "  
  
Jacob glanced at Dean with wide eyes before chiming in his answer. "It's a human drink, Bowman. Means it has alcohol in it."  
  
"Dude, you just missed the mini-us," another deep voice joined in. The oldest of any Jacob there wandered over to greet the newcomers. "There was a Jacob that got cursed, apparently. They left before you guys showed up, but you'll probably get to meet them next time."  
  
Bowman leaned away from the even-more-giant giant and then glanced to his Sam. "One of him is  _sprite-sized?_  "  
  
Jacob waved a hand at the two very green little guys on the table and grinned. “Stands out almost as much as you do, buddy,” he greeted. “Dude, did you teach your Sam to fly?”  
  
Sam grinned encouragingly. “Bowman  _thinks_  he taught me to fly,” he said as he caressed one of the wings of his glider. He could see the attention it was getting, and from looking around the Lounge at all the other Sams, could understand why.  
  
He was the only one, aside from Bowman, wearing the colors of Wellwood.  
  
“I ended up in the Wellwood when I got cursed,” Sam explained as Dean sat down, a fascinated look in his eyes for the leaf glider. The other Sam started to climb down so he could join them. “Figured if I can’t fly like they can, I’d just make my own wings.”  
  
To demonstrate, Bowman stretched out one of his own wings next to the glider. The wingspan was nearly the same, and there was definitely a resemblance between the two. After years of poking at Bowman’s wings, Sam had been able to make his own, and all teasing aside, Bowman was proud.  
  
“We look after Wellwood as a team,” he boasted, shooting both the Jacobs a grin. The younger one shrugged sheepishly and Bowman snickered. “Even gave that giant right there a reason to think twice.”  
  
Jacob nodded even as he joined the others in sitting at the table. He held up his hand to show off the bandaging over the back of it, hiding a long gash in it. “Sam jumped up onto my hand when, uh. When I tried to grab him.”  
  
Dean snorted, and his Sam sent him a scolding look. “Yeah, uh, so far we’ve seen  _all_  the Jacobs making… quite an impression,” he said with a smirk. “We’ve got big and tall over here,” he nodded at the oldest Jacob, and then at the next table over where a matching set of cursed Sam and Dean played a game of pool, “who managed to get sliced up  _twice_  for grabbing those Winchesters. Shorty by the bar definitely regretted grabbing Sam…” That Jacob still had a black eye to match his sliced hand. “The only one who made it out in one piece is half-pint, who’ll be back later. So far as I can tell.”  
  
“Dude, don’t miss out on saying high to him when he gets back,” the older Jacob said, lightly punching the newest Jacob on the shoulder. “Seeing double is already a trip, right? Imagine seeing yourself pocket-sized.”  
  
“Pocket-sized?” Bowman interjected with a wary glare.  
  
The taller Jacob put his hands up in surrender. “I’m sure someone else said it before me,” he insisted. When Bowman only gave him a flat look in return, he shrugged in defeat. “Either way. You guys have fun chillin’ in the Lounge, it’s a great place. They’ll even make whatever food you want.” He gave a wave to his younger self, who returned it in a daze, and then wandered over to see what his own Winchesters were up to.  
  
Bowman scoffed and his wings twitched. He turned away from Jacob in time to see another Sam approaching. Even with the Lounge working its strange effects on his mind to make everything seem  _okay_ , Bowman was stubborn. “This is really weird,” he commented, looking between the two Sams. “Do you know how to swordfight? What if a possum pokes around?”  
  
The Sam that had just arrived arched an eyebrow, exchanging a look with his doppelgänger. “Most humans don’t swordfight,” Sam explained, putting his hand in his jacket. He withdrew his knife.  
  
Spritely Sam looked it over approvingly, then pulled out his own. “The knights all use swords,” he told Sam. “Scar trained me himself when I was just a kid.” His cheeks turned red. “He caught me playing around with the weapons, trying them out.”  
  
Dean chuckled. “No matter where you are, it’s hard to keep you out of trouble,” he said fondly.  
  
“Look who’s talking,” his Sam countered.  
  
Bowman smirked, but couldn’t tease his own Sam about it without inviting it back on himself. They both had a knack for finding trouble right at its source. They’d found their Jacob in the most touch-and-go first meeting they could have managed. “Well, he’s way stronger than anyone else in Wellwood, so I think Scar would have taken him on even without catching him messing with swords,” he pointed out. “Blasted strength can even keep  _me_  from flying off.”  To punctuate the complaint, he nudged at Sam with the edge of his wing.  
  
While the banter moved back and forth up on the table, a small figure made his way towards them down on the ground. The Lounge’s smallest occupant, Oscar had a lot of ground to cover if he wanted to go meet the newcomers.  
  
Luckily, the bartender always seemed to make sure no one was in danger. Oscar could walk right up to Dean’s boot without worry. “Um. Dean?” he called up, as loudly as he could. He even tugged lightly at a shoelace. “Can I come up and see?”  
  
It wasn’t the voice, but the tugs that let Dean know Oscar was there. He glanced down, feeling a slight bit of vertigo when he saw Oscar standing all the way down by his boot. Even more than when Sam was on the ground, Oscar gave Dean the feeling that he was a building.  
  
Shifting his boot away from Oscar, careful not to tug the kid off his feet, Dean knelt down and gently scooped him into a hand with a light finger. “Wait until you see  _these_  two,” he chuckled, ruffling Oscar’s hair. “I might even have to pry the other kids off the arcade machines.”  
  
Lowering his hand right next to Sam, Dean let Oscar slide right off, barely waist-high next to his little brother. “I’m gonna go grab some drinks for everyone, any requests?” he said, pushing himself up and looking at Bowman. Everyone else, he had memorized. Spritely Sam was still Sam at his core.  
  
Bowman was almost distracted by the young nestling-sized kid staring at him with wide eyes. He did a double take, and then decided he would challenge the skills of whoever was making the drinks. This was no Wellwood, after all. "Pine tea, if they have it," he replied with a smirk. "If not, water would do."  
  
The next time he glanced down, Oscar had wandered closer to him and Sam. The vibrant greens of their clothes was a stark contrast to his own drab greys.  
  
Oscar straightened when he saw Bowman looking at him just as curiously. "Um. I'm Oscar, and I live in a motel. When I'm not here, I mean. This place is better."  
  
Dean left with the attention on Oscar, leaving the others and the newest Jacob alone.  
  
While he went to order, Sam knelt down next to Oscar, his drab clothes matching the small kid’s the best out of the group. “I grew up in a motel, too,” he said, looking between the spritely Sam and Bowman and Oscar. “When we visited Wellwood, it was a lot  _brighter_  than my old home.”  
  
“You went to Wellwood?” spritely Sam repeated, respect in his face.  
  
Sam grinned. “And Dean went and snatched Bowman right out of the air, so you better watch out if you ever run into him.”  
  
As expected, Bowman bristled. His wings puffed up and he straightened. “He better not try,” he warned. “I'll bop him if he does. Just figures I'd wait to meet him and he'd try to grab me!”  
  
Oscar smiled faintly. “W-well, Dean's not the worst human to grab ya,” he admitted. He shared a look with the Sam next to him; they'd both been grabbed at first, only for it to turn out to be one of the best things that could have happened to them. If they had simply run away, their stories never would have begun.  
  
“Do you really, um,  _bop_  humans? That's real brave!”  
  
Jacob, feeling like more of a giant than ever with such a tiny kid at the table, rested his head on his arms. “He definitely will if he gets the chance,” he replied. “Hell, Sam might join him if the human earns it.”  
  
Spritely Sam snickered. “You should know.”  
  
After ordering food at the bar, Dean enlisted the kids help in carrying it all over to the table with the new trio at it. Dean had the drinks on his tray (since he didn’t quite trust his younger-self alone with the mugs of beer), while the other Dean had the food on his tray, and balancing carefully on it was Sam with the smaller tray of food and drink.  
  
“Whoa, that’s awesome!” the teenager declared when he spotted the glider sitting on the table.   
  
“C’mon, put the tray down!” Sam bugged him, almost hopping in place where he waited.  
  
Both Deans did so, the teenager mussing up Sam’s hair for the barked commands.  
  
“We’ve got a round of drinks on the house,” Dean said, passing off a mug for Jacob and putting his own to the side. The younger Sam bolted to the small table sitting at the center of the table, putting his tray down and separating the drinks and food.  
  
“Pine tea,” Dean said as Sam put a mug down on an empty spot, “milk for growing bones, and juice.” He gave his younger self a smirk.  
  
“Plus the bartender gave us these mintcakes!” Sam announced, his short arms just able to reach to place one in each spot. “Oscar, ya gotta try one!”  
  
The mention of food caught Oscar's attention, to no one's surprise. His eyes lingered on the glider for a second more, but soon enough he turned to wander curiously towards the table and his own Sam. "Mint cakes?" he echoed, already eyeing one of the places next to a glass of milk.  
  
"No way," Bowman said, following. He reached the table just as Oscar did and stared dubiously at his setting. The steaming pine tea and mintcake looked like they could have been made in Wellwood itself. "How--"  
  
"The man at the bar can make  _any_  food we want!" Oscar explained with a delighted grin.  
  
Jacob sat up so he could spy on the miniature settings on the table. The tiny cakes were familiar indeed. They looked no different from the ones Sam had shared with him.  
  
"Better try it out, Bowman. Make sure it's up to par."  
  
Bowman shot him a glare, even as he picked up the mug of tea. "I don't know what that means!" he groused, before taking a sip.  
  
"Do ya like it?" Oscar asked, watching Bowman closely. He’d never seen someone with wings before, so both Bowman and the new Sam fascinated him.  
  
Bowman sighed and shrugged. "It's like my aunt made it," he admitted begrudgingly.  
  
“Dean, you should try!” the younger Sam enthused, holding up an extra mintcake for his brother.  
  
Giving his older self the side-eye, the teenager sat down right by where Sam’s seat was. “Mintcakes?” he asked dubiously, reaching out and letting Sam put one down on his fingertip.  
  
His worries washed away the moment he bit down on the candy-sized morsel. “This is almost as good as pie.”  
  
“Told you,” Sam said smugly.  
  
Dean finished off his bite, then begrudgingly drank the juice the original Dean had ordered him. It was  _good,_  just not as good as a ice cold mug of beer. He eyes that up, then looked for something else to distract him.  
  
Bowman and the newest Sam were obvious choices.  
  
“How fast  _are_  you, anyway?” Dean asked, poking at one of the sprite’s leafy wings.  
  
The offended wing twitched back from the contact and fanned open. He barely resisted slapping his wing against the intruding hand; Dean was just a kid. This one was, anyway. More than one of most blasted humans should be more confusing.  
  
"Faster than anyone in Wellwood!" he boasted proudly.  
  
"Where's that?" Oscar asked, already up on his chair and swinging his legs back and forth. He'd made some progress on his mintcake but now he watched Bowman's twitching wings.  
  
Jacob smirked. "He's got a point, Bowman. Not in Wellwood now."  
  
"So, I'm plenty fast," Bowman protested. "Right, Sam?"  
  
“Faster than my glider,” Sam said indulgently. “And faster than the other sprites. He sneaks out to race the others at night.” He looked up at the teenager, smiling. It was like looking into a mirror of the older brother he’d lost so long ago. His Dean would be older, like the other one sitting with them, but it was nice to remember. “We’ll have to show you after we eat.”  
  
“While you eat, how ‘bout you tell us what brought you to Bowman?” the other Sam offered. “We’ve got a collection of stories going so far, and I have a feeling you might have one of the more interesting ones.”  
  
“Then maybe I can try the glider?” asked the younger Sam from where he was sitting, his legs kicking back and forth under the seat.  
  
Spritely Sam smiled and nodded. “I think I can manage a ride or two,” he said, eyeing up his younger self and judging his size. “There’s a few extra belts in my supplies I could rig up.”

Artwork by [MogaDeer](https://mogadeer.deviantart.com/)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spritely Sam is in the house; all Deans beware.


	7. As Light as an Oscar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Current AUs in the Lounge:**
> 
> **Brothers Together**  (Teenager big Dean; tiny kiddo Sam; tiny kiddo Oscar)  
>  **Brothers Apart**  (The original Dean and Sam)  
>  **Brothers Lost**  (Big Jacob with the tiny bros)   
>  **Brothers Found**  (Big Dean and Jacob, tiny Sam)  
>  **Brothers Adopted**  (Big Dean, tiny Sam and tiny Jacob)  ******** Returning**  
>  **Brothers Asunder** (Big Jacob, spritely Sam and Bowman)

Sam busied himself checking the last of the belts, giving the last one a sharp yank to confirm it was tightly sealed.  
  
The kid hanging from the makeshift harness laughed as he swayed in place, kicking out a leg to see how solid the belts hold on him was.  
  
More than one person was watching Sam in concern as he went about rigging up his glider so it would soar with a second passenger. Both Dean and his younger, teenager self hovered close by, peering under the glider’s wings to see ten-year-old Sam.  
  
“You sure this’ll work?” the teenager asked, nudging his little brother with a finger and sending him swaying all over again.  
  
Sam grinned confidently, pushing his rapier to the side as he fixed his own belts. “Of course! Normally sprites carry the kids themselves with their belts if there’s an emergency. I always keep extra supplies on hand in case we find someone that needs a lift.” He batted at Sam’s leg and set him swinging a third time, only getting giggles from the excited kid, eagerly awaiting their flight. “The glider will handle his weight no problem.”  
  
“Then we get to fly!” Sam declared from where he was harnessed.  
  
Jacob watched with fascination as the littlest Sam was fastened in. It might never get old to see such tiny harnesses and belts put to actual use. The few times he'd held the glider, it had felt delicate enough to break in a harsh breeze.  
  
But he'd seen it in action. A breeze was just what that glider used to soar like the sprites that took Sam in.  
  
"You'll fly alright," he commented. He was as endeared as anyone by the sight of little Sam rigged up in the glider. It was oversized for him by far. "That thing gets some air."  
  
Oscar, who had held back until then, curiously approached the glider and eyed the belts holding Sam in place. He had to double check. "Might even get too high for a pin and string," he realized, "so you better hold on tight, Sam!"  
  
“You bet Oz!” Sam giggled, forgetting himself and using Dean’s nickname for the kid. He gave his older counterpart his biggest puppy eyes. “Think Oscar can try after I’m done? Please?”  
  
“Hmm,” Sam pretended to think it over as he gave the glider a few last minute checks. To all eyes, it was in perfect condition. None of the wear from the last few flights out in Wellwood were showing, leaving him to wonder if this strange place they were on had anything to do with it.  
  
“I think we can do you one better,” Sam decided. “We can take  _both_  of you up together. Oscar’s small enough for Bowman to carry, no problem.”  
  
Oscar, who hadn't planned on flying, straightened and stared up at the spritely Sam with wide eyes. "I-I, um," he stammered, all while his cheeks turned pink. He looked over to where Bowman stood with an eyebrow raised for Sam. "Can you?"  
  
Bowman broke out of his flat look at Sam and offered Oscar a smirk. Volunteered or not, he wouldn't deny anyone a chance to try flight. "Sure I can," he said, sizing the kid up. "I used to take Rischa flying all the time."  
  
"Oh," Oscar muttered, vaguely remembering who Rischa was. Then he eyed the belts securing Sam in. "Do ya have, um, any extra belts? I don't wanna fall..."  
  
“Don’t even need one,” Sam breezed past Oscar’s concerns, reaching over and giving a sharp yank on Bowman’s yellow scarf. Bowman didn’t have a chance to grab it back before Sam had claimed it.  
  
The fabric was bright yellow to contrast the greens of the Wellwood outfits, and made to withstand flight. It was exactly like what they used to use for Rischa when she came flying with Bowman, back before her wings grew in.  
  
In a smooth motion once he had the belt in his hands, Sam hoisted Oscar up and held him out to Bowman in spite of his surprised squirms. Bowman rolled his eyes at Sam’s antics, but held out his arms to carefully accept. The moment the sprite was holding the kid, Sam looped the fabric around them both, tugging it until Oscar was firmly held to Bowman’s lean torso. Quick loops around the kid’s arms and then another around them both, and Sam tied off an expert knot he’d learned in Wellwood, sure to pull it tight.  
  
“There we go!” he said cheerily. “Light as a feather.”  
  
Bowman heaved a sigh. A child wasn’t as light to him as to Sam, though even Oscar was much thinner than he expected. At least, judging by the way Oscar clung the best he could, they didn’t need to worry about him falling off.  
  
Oscar had his eyes shut tight and they hadn’t even gone anywhere yet. A hand settled on top of his head and he looked up in surprise to find Bowman smirking confidently at him. “It’ll be alright, Oscar,” Bowman told him. “I’d never let Birdie fall, and I’ll never let you fall, either.”  
  
There was a pause in which Oscar considered his options. He didn’t have many. He was already tied securely to the sprite. He glanced over as spritely Sam finally began the work of hooking himself into his own glider. They were going to do this. It was a lot more excitement than he’d met with in the Lounge so far, and he wasn’t sure how brave he’d be for it.  
  
“I-I’ll try it for a little while,” he stammered, clinging even tighter. “May-maybe it’ll be fun.”  
  
Bowman snickered. “That’s the idea,” he confirmed. Then, he fanned his wings impatiently. “Soon as Sam gets himself ready over here, we can get going.”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes, the last strap clicking into place. “I’ve got an idea,” he said. He shifted his shoulders. “Hang on, alright?” he told the kid positioned right above him, safely nestled between the canopy and where he hung, hands tight on the bar.  
  
“ ‘Kay!” his younger self said with a big grin, wrapping thin arms around Sam’s neck. It was hard to believe he’d once been that small and light before.  
  
Sam wrapped one hand around his younger counterparts arm to get a good grip on him, then called up “Dean! Mind giving us a hand?”  
  
He was looking at the teenager sitting at the table, staring in awe at his little brother strapped into a tiny glider. “Uh, yeah!” Dean stammered, caught off guard by the sudden attention.  
  
“Just lift us up over your head so I can get some air,” Sam coached, knowing his Dean would want in on this if he was around, so he might as well get Sam’s Dean as involved as he could be.  
  
Two large hands approached from either side, slipping beneath the glider. Sam’s feet left the ground as Dean cupped his hands, and he prepared himself as they lifted into the air. Two green eyes peered under the wings to see where Sam was secured, and the young kid eagerly waved at his older brother.  
  
“Check this out!” Sam called to Dean, stretching his legs and arms (or at least the one arm Sam wasn’t holding tight) straight out to show off. “No hands!”  
  
The twin green orbs briefly rolled. “You’ll take care of him?” he asked Sam seriously.  
  
Spritely Sam nodded, perfectly serious. “Won’t harm a hair on his head. Now hold on!” he coached the kid braced against his back.  
  
The hands rose up into the air, and Sam kicked off Dean’s skin, jumping off the edge like he was up on the ledge of a cliff.  
  
Down on the table, Bowman grinned and tensed. “Alright, Oscar, let’s go make sure they don’t crash,” he announced.  
  
“Make--what?!” Oscar’s voice pitched upwards into a yelp as Bowman leapt into the air in one spring, his wings powering downward to propel him away. It took some extra flaps from his wings to really get going with the small extra weight, but just like they’d said, Oscar was light. Barely a hindrance at all to a skilled set of wings like Bowman’s.  
  
He climbed in height to meet the others as the glider dipped down, and soon was focused on the goal. Bowman darted past the teenaged Dean to meet the glider in midair and grab the bar across the top. Any boost he could give it could mean the difference between Sam staying airborne and being forced to glide back to the ground.  
  
As the glider and sprite rose up into the air, the door of the Lounge opened, admitting Dean and his tiny brothers back into the room. They didn’t make it out of the threshold before spotting the strange sight, all three sets of eyes drawn up into the air.  
  
Oscar clung as tightly as he could and shuddered. A part of him marveled that, on the other side of the leaves just below him, Sam was suspended in the air.  
  
Having fun. He’d even wanted Oscar to join him on this daring stunt.  
  
“M-maybe a little fun,” he admitted. Even so, his voice was louder and higher pitched than he’d meant, and it turned into a squeak even as Bowman let go of the glider and swooped to the side to fly alongside the others.  
  
“What do you think?” Bowman asked, directing the question to both Oscar and the younger Sam.  
  
The former hid his face behind his hands, but answered anyway. “Real high up! Feels weird!”  
  
“It’s  _awesome!_ ” Sam yelled, trying to be heard over the wind. His arms were tight around spritely Sam’s neck, at this point the older man’s hand on his arm merely preventing him from tightening his grip too far and keeping him from breathing.  
  
“The air in here is pretty good!” Sam called over to Bowman, using his one remaining hand to bank the glider around. “I thought it would be as flat as at night, but this is like being in the village on a good day!”  
  
The one creating the small updrafts that kept the little glider in the air and helped the sprite show off his prowess watched, forgotten in his corner at the bar as he slowly wiped a glass clean. He watched the out-of-place pair with some amusement, finding them very entertaining.  
  
Bowman agreed, and didn’t dare question it. There was a lot about the place that he’d call strange (the closed in walls and corners near the top of that list). He welcomed a bit of familiar as well.  
  
“Oscar, let’s see if we can find an updraft for them,” Bowman encouraged, curling an arm around the young boy tied to him. He got the kid’s attention and saw a question in those wide eyes. A question, and a little fear, but no outright refusal. “I feel out the air to find Sam the best path so his glider doesn’t lose too much air,” he explained. “Come on!”  
  
With that, he pulled ahead of the glider in a familiar motion, one that he and Sam had practiced time and time again. Bowman couldn’t meander as much as he usually did without risking Oscar, but his wings felt out the air nonetheless.  
  
He grinned when he felt it up ahead, and was pleased to notice that they’d caught some attention since their flight began. While everyone watched, Bowman banked slightly to the side, and then soared upwards in an updraft, guiding the other two behind him right into it. He kept his arm curled around his passenger for extra safety, especially when Oscar was brave enough to try to see behind them to watch the others.  
  
Both Sams were grinning madly, matching expressions on their faces as the glider soared around the room, banking gently to overlook the tables. On one, Sam could swear that there was a smaller version of Dean standing and watching them. At another, a different Dean was curiously rifling through a deck of cards to see if they were marked in any way while a third Dean continued to watch from the doorway, not to mention the fourth and fifth close by to their starting point.  
  
“Let’s have some fun!” Sam called over his shoulder to the kid.  
  
The arms around him tightened, and he heard Sam’s voice in his ear. “Whatcha gonna do?” the kid asked, but there was no nerves in his voice, just excitement.  
  
“Watch,” Sam said, letting the glider take itself back to where they’d started. Bowman followed without being prompted, but held back to see what Sam had planned.  
  
He knew it was  _something._  
  
Both Deans, young and old, were watching the flight of the Wellwood pair and the children. Though there was slight concern in the older Dean’s face, he didn’t seem overly worried they’d get in any trouble.  
  
“Now!” Sam said when they were overhead, dipping the glider forward.  
  
Teenager Dean dove out of the way when the leafy glider buzzed past him, and the other Dean followed suit as Sam caught the air again, flying so close to him they brushed against the spike of hair on his head. By the time they leveled out, a few feet lower in the air than when they’d started, both Deans were sitting up on the floor, looking dazed.  
  
“Gotcha!” younger Sam called to his older brother from where he was strapped in.  
  
Bowman had to pull to a stop to hover while he and Oscar both let out surprised laughs. Even Jacob had flinched back, though he had been spared from the Sam attack. There might be nothing more satisfying than the sight of actual giants flinching away from a divebomb.  
  
If Oscar wasn't already so nervous, Bowman would probably make an attempt at a second round for them. They had their eyes on the glider and would never see it coming.  
  
As it was, he dove at a much friendlier pace. Even then, Oscar tensed up.  
  
Bowman banked in a wide circle around the fallen Deans and smirked. “Look at that, Oscar,” he pointed out. “That's why Sam's a knight back home. He can take down even the biggest giants!”  
  
Oscar was breathless from all the excitement, but there was still a sheepish grin on his face. He eyed up his own Dean to make sure he hadn't gotten hurt when he fell over, and then chanced a short wave at him. “Sam's s-so fast! I thought he was gonna fall!”  
  
Bowman smirked at Dean, flitting away before the human could get any ideas, and caught up with the glider. “Sam uses dives like that all the time in the forest, too. Keeps the glider moving fast, since he can't flap his wings like me.”  
  
“And I gotta be fast to keep up with the fastest wings in Wellwood!” Sam called over to the others. He circled the table, giving both Deans a wide berth as he sought a landing spot.  
  
“Do we  _have_  to land?” Sam asked from behind him, sounding disappointed.  
  
Sam grinned. “Don’t worry, we’ll be sure to fly around again,” he reassured him. “I think Dean’s heart needs a few minutes to calm down after that last attack, though.”  
  
The teenager Dean gave them a flat look as he picked himself off the ground, but he couldn’t hide a smile at how excited Sam was for the flight. “What’d ya think?” he asked as Sam dipped the glider’s wings right as they passed him.  
  
“This is  _great!_ ” Sam laughed, loosening his grip around Sam’s neck. “I want to go again!”  
  
“Maybe later,” the older Dean grumbled from the floor. His younger counterpart offered him a hand.  
  
While the Deans collected themselves, Bowman snickered and flitted alongside the glider. This might not be the forest, but he still had to help Sam find a safe landing in case the wind changed. "What'd you think, Oscar?" he asked as they slowly angled around to pull in for a landing.  
  
Oscar was shivering, but more from sheer adrenaline than terror. "I-I didn't fall," he announced happily. "It's kinda fun but maybe I'll watch next time..."  
  
Bowman ruffled the kid's hair as they swooped in to land. "You did good helping me keep an eye on them," he pointed out. Then, his boots hit the table and he stumbled forward with the extra weight before coming to a stop.  
  
Jacob, still sitting at the table thanks to Sam not diving at him, leaned down to offer a smile. "Have fun?" Bowman certainly seemed proud.  
  
Oscar fidgeted as the sprite untied him. "Yeah," he admitted. As soon as his feet hit solid ground, though, he wobbled and stumbled away from Bowman. The dizziness from swooping and flitting to and fro with Bowman hit him all at once, and Oscar finally plopped down to sit right where he was.  
  
Sam’s landing was smooth, and he quickly unbelted himself. His younger self waited with eager impatience, unable to keep still after all the excitement of flying.  
  
When he was free at last, he ran over to Dean. “Didja see us?” he asked, bouncing on his heels. “We went allll the way around the room!”  
  
“You bet I did,” Dean said, unable to resist Sam’s excitement. He reached around, lightly wrapping a finger around Oscar to keep him on his feet.  
  
Spritely Sam watched them fondly, a bit of sadness in his eyes to see a version of his older brother acting so supportive of him.  
  
“You’ll find him,” came a voice from behind.  
  
Sam looked to see his other self, dressed in the drab colors that would blend into the room, standing there and smiling. “Dean’s out there, I know it,” the original Sam reassured him. “He always finds his way home.”  
  
“You’re acting like I’m some lost puppy,” Dean griped to the side, also keeping an eye on the kids to make sure they were fine after their flight.  
  
Spritely Sam had to smile. “Ain’t you?”  
  
On the screen above the bar, the words  **The Study of the Four**  rippled into existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diiiiive!
> 
> Smol kiddos in flight!

**Author's Note:**

> Annnnndddd... the debut of the AU lounge!
> 
> So this idea was invented by the tumblr folk, and has since grown and developed until we just had to do something for it!
> 
> This won't be the only chapter in the series, we plan on running through the AUs as we go, and everyone's welcome to come along with us!
> 
> [Check out the posts on the tumblr here!](http://brothersapart.tumblr.com/tagged/au-lounge)


End file.
